by Ayers, Suzy
Fantasy Encounter with a Dom
Suzy Ayers
Text copyright © 2013 by Suzy AyersAll rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of both copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
The following is a work of fiction, a product of the author’s imagination. Any semblance to actual person’s or events is purely coincidental. This work contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright laws. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.
Cover designed and crafted specially for this book for this author by http://www.selfpubbookcovers.com/index.php . The artist who created this cover was Livia.
Dedication
I’d like to write a dedication to a very special person and the submissive that this book is loosely based upon, Carrie Anne Ward. She has helped me tremendously with this book. She is a strong beautiful woman who like me, is passionate in so many ways. She possesses a talent in art and writing.
For some reason the world inflicts this self doubt in us when we are young. Luckily, for most we overcome this; are stronger for it, and it can be seen by all those who encounter us. It’s always puzzled me why others try to interject their opinions on to others. Try to shame us. People think that what we do is wrong. For instance, writing erotic novels or being in a loving Dom/sub relationship.
What I am trying to say is this. Enjoy your life, trust your heart and follow your passions, as we have.
Thank you for all those who have helped me and especially those who have inspired me to write this book.
XX
Suzy Ayers
Chapter 1
Another Tuesday morning, still in her pjs, Keira curled up in her desk chair and tried to fix her latest novel. The torrential rain on the saltbox cape was overpoweringly loud; the sound of it made her want to tug the chenille blanket tighter around her as she worked. Stuck on the sex scene, she tried to find the correct tension; stared at the pelting rain and ice against the glass of the window. She let out a long sigh, her glance shifted to the picture on her desk and she picked it up; she ran her finger over the smiling, happy faces. The beautiful long ivory dress adorned with sparkling beads and her fingertip veil, memories of how her sister helped her with it, her something borrowed. A tear burned at the rim of her eye, as she remembered that tight feeling in her chest when he’d call her his wife, his bride…his beautiful bride and belonged to him, heart and soul.
She blinked the painful desire to have those days back and smiled at the faces behind the glass. The other side of the frame contained a photo of them on their honeymoon dressed in their finest for a formal dinner at a French restaurant at the resort on the island of St. Lucia. He looked so handsome and trim then, in his burgundy red microseude soft shirt. She rubbed the chenille between her fingers; the silken threads reminded her of it. And a tie, he never wore ties. A wistful sigh escaped her lips. And her black floor length strapless dress with a deep V in the front. Thoughts danced about as she remembered the candlelit romance and soft whisper of words for only them, as she slid her foot between his legs, gently she teased his groin. Her thoughts drifted to images of them as they lazed about on the soft sandy beaches; as they splashed each other in the warm salty water. He’d hold her body in his arms. How she loved it. The flutter of butterflies tickled her belly at the memory. His strong muscle bound arms, flexed in their embrace. Her lips curled as she thought about the taut body he used to have. She’d giggle as he flexed his arms and showcased those tattoos; a red devil on his left bicep, to insinuate devil-dogs and the Marine Core globe with Eagle wings and an anchor on his forearm. Something about those muscles upon muscles made her heart beat a little faster, as they formed rock hard in her grasp. It reminded her of his dick getting hard in her hand. Damn. Thoughts of her husband warmed her straight down to her crotch and she removed the blanket as the tingle sensation in her clit came to life. She blew it away for now and wished she could save it for later.
She chuckled aloud, as she remembered how frisky she was in the pool that overlooked the ocean. She pulled the crotch of her suit aside and led his hard dick to her eager pussy under the waterfall, as they entangled in kisses. She didn’t care who was around, just them, caught up with each other. Well, he did. He scolded her, but when they returned to their room he punished her back door plenty on that four-poster bed. Her voice rang out and the neighbors had surely been aroused by her screams of pleasure throughout their honeymoon.
She thought of him now, at work, how he hated it. He’d come home nightly full of stress since she lost her ‘real job’ over a year ago now. He called her writing a hobby. She set the picture down; she kissed her fingers and pressed them to the other framed photo of her two babies, both in school at the moment. The house was quiet except the storm that raged and the tip-tapping of her fingers on the keys. This god damn scene! Agghh.
She and Tim have been married for almost ten years and they’ve been through so much. They wanted a young family but initially it didn’t happen, fertility issues and they were her fault. Cysts on her ovaries had prevented her body to produce enough, or viable eggs. She felt guilt, the guilt any wife would feel. That he would regret that he married her. After two years of practice they finally had a daughter, and then shortly there after a son. She had been torn terribly from her second child and stitched in many ways. Recovery had been a battle, the normal six weeks, turned into six months and then she sought out professionals.
Even now she still wrestled with feeling beautiful like that woman in the wedding picture. Marked and mutilated by her children in many ways. Mothers she had encountered in this tiny town talk about and say they’re proud of those marks. Tiger stripes they’d call their stretch marks lovingly-formed by their little tigers. She looked back at those photos, distracted again. What’s wrong with me? Why aren’t I proud of those things? Maybe that makes me a terrible person or mother.
The sound of a diesel tumbled up the street and overpowered her ears through the storm. There’s the bus. Her feet padded down the stairs quickly. She grabbed her trench coat and umbrella at the door. She raced the bus to the driveway. She hated living in New England, the weather could never figure out what it was doing.
“Hi babes.” Her arm stretched wide for her two little ones who charged at her.
“Mommy!” Lily claimed her left hip.
“Hi mom.” Jake, her right.
She squeezed those two little blessings, as she hurried them inside before she became the next Mary Poppin’s as her black umbrella wavered. “Come on.” They splashed along the cracked driveway in need of repair, like so many things in this house.
“Who wants a snack? And hot cocoa?”
“Me!” They screamed in unison as they dumped their backpacks, muddy rain boots, and wet gear in the front hall.
They curled up together on the couch for some TV time and relaxation, as dinner cooked in the Crockpot and the scent of beef stew overtook every crevice of the house. It made even Keira’s stomach rumble in anticipation. Lily grabbed a puzzle, bored with TV and they attempted this two hundred piece cat scene.
The familiar key and turn of the lock, “I hear daddy.” Both kids jumped off the couch at lightening speed and nearly knocked him over. They rehashed their day in a high-pitched almost inaudible bursts of words. Both fought to be heard and vied for his attention.
A laugh escaped Keira’s lips. It’s the same thing every night. She stayed back. It’s his favorite part of the day,
he had told her once.
He leaned down to her, “And how are you honey?” The smell of motor oil overwhelmed and burned her nostrils.
“Fine.” She flashed a smile, as she presented her cheek for him. His coiled unshaved facial hair bristled against her. He kept it to spite her.
“Looking fine. And something sure smells good.” He entered the kitchen and she chased after him and left the puzzle she worked on with the kids in her wake.
“Oh no you don’t mister.” She swatted his hand. “Don’t open that. It’s not ready.”
He dropped his lunch bag on the floor, and it made a thud. His hazel eyes, like unpolished jade stones turned intense. “Then I’ll just have to have an appetizer.” His hand slid under the lip of her butt cheek and pulled her swiftly toward him.
“Hmm. Appetizer? What about the kids?” Her voice lowered in seductive sweetness.
“Kids? What kids?” He teased.
She giggled as the hair from his face tickled along her neck. “You’re naughty.” She swatted him for the second time. He left to wash up and she continued to pick up, after him and the kids with an internal sigh, contempt tugged at her. My life is reduced to this, maid Keira.
After the normal nightly routine, she and Tim attempted their nightly affair of trying to be intimate. Well he was of course always successful, it was Keira.
“Just forget it.” The sharp stabs of pain felt like needles being inserted into her clit with just the slightest pressure, she couldn’t take it. “Why do I have to be so broken?” She whispered as she rolled over and wiped the tears away, so he couldn’t see them. Tim always told her how terrible he felt, which in turn made her heart hurt.
“You want a back rub or something?”
She flicked off the lamp beside her. “Sure.” She whispered, but not long into it, his fingers dribbled and gave way. His loud snore made her body flush with anger.
Angry with him, with her self, but mostly with her own body, it had given up on her. She missed those multi-orgasmic passionate nights; need to please, and be pleased over and over.
Keira and Tim’s sex life had returned, re-bloomed, after physical therapy for her vagina. Who knew they had something like that? A safer route then surgery she felt. Before physical therapy they were unable to even have intercourse at all and for her that was unacceptable. Still, there was something missing.
She had bought more sex toys after his initial pre-kid purchases. She even purchased some bondage things too. When she perused the internet, some were laughably cheesy, others she feared they’d break. Or worse feared Tim might think them too kinky. But nothing seemed to help. It sure wasn’t moisture. Damn you! Stupid fucking pussy!
Unsatisfied and wide awake she dressed; she wrapped her robe around her and went back to her computer. The night provided shelter; no one could see her or hear the images she’d pop on. Some by mistake; others truly aroused her.
Keira wanted more then her body would allow. Her writing from spicy and saucy romances began to show her darker wants and desires. But will my readers want this? And moreover could I bring myself to press that button, to self publish it?
For now she continued to write it. It was cathartic and it got her juices flowing. Being able to work from home certainly had it’s advantages, a big one right now being that she could research into these not-so-work-friendly sites online. She meandered through pages on sites, peeked at those locked pages on her Twitter account and came across one that really caught her attention. Claimed to be a fellow writer and something about it really tugged at her to want to see. She was a submissive owned by @MasterJarred32.
Keira’s finger hovered over the little birdie icon before she pressed it, and she did. She followed her, this THE little one@C_A_Ward13 from the UK who immediately followed her back. It wasn’t as scary as she thought. As she pulled up @C_A_Ward13’s media gallery; the pictures drew Keira in.
Keira’s mouth dropped open at the photographs. These were nothing like some of the other pages she’d clicked on, raw and nasty—no these were like art. Gorgeous, phenomenally photographed and shockingly they aroused the very core of her sex. Well most of them, a couple were intriguing and others were not sexual at all. This woman was an artist too. Then she pulled up @MasterJarred32. Good goddamn, what is it about a man in a suit? Yum.
*****
Intrigued night after night, she’d follow this relationship. Simple tension in words, but there was something else; she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Keira clicked on the followers or followed to see other relationships, to understand the Dom/sub world more. The images of bondage and beautiful surrender posed flawlessly. She wished so badly with pain in her constricted chest, that her body would allow her to do just that.
She gasped in giddy delight as she flipped through the pictures and found one, “That collar, I want that.” She spoke out loud to herself, as a beautiful sparkling collar for someone’s princess slave, it glittered magnificently before her. All I have is a choker, and it has a little ring for him to hook a lead on. Why can’t I just tell Tim? We’ve played with it on… She sighed and pressed her palms to her temple; pushed her baby-fine hair behind her shoulders.
She found her way through more pages and perused into another Master’s profile and clicked on a site, unsure what to expect, she found the link lead her to pussy flogging and whipping. She gasped and covered her mouth. Sharp sounds smacked her eardrums. Sure, Tim has hit her clit or pussy with his hand, but this was—shit eight minutes? Gulp. She watched the whole thing, unable to turn it off; unable to look away. She wanted to hear if she really wanted this…and honestly wondering why she was becoming increasingly turned on by it. No way could I handle that. Ouch!
As Keira satiated her visual senses she found herself needing to fulfill that hunger in between her thighs; at one in the morning this time. Her pussy dripped inside her panties, and her mind was still a blur with what she had just seen. She turned off her laptop and she went downstairs with a firm hold on the railing. Her legs quaked, with the visions and thoughts firmly rooted in her head.
She stripped her pjs off, pulled the covers back and slid in beside Tim’s naked body. Her hand slid down his back and down the curve of his pelvis. She raked her nails across the line of his lower abdomen, which made him groan. Softly her hands grazed along his right thigh and then cupped under his testicles. They slowly began to shrink in arousal inside her grasp, as she moved her nails lightly across the sensitive skin. His hand began to come alive and moved along the curve of her spine, as he traced it. Keira used her other hand to squeeze his dick to wake him and brought him to her mouth. Tim was more then happy to be awakened by Keira’s soft lips on his cock. Slowly he became hard under her touch, her tongue, and hot breath. As his erection grew, her wetness seeped further down her soft folds and onto the back of her calves, but it didn’t set the flames out, rather it encouraged them further.
“Mmm.” Tim’s throaty growl called out like a bear awoken from hibernation, as his fingers intertwined around the nape of her neck and twisted into her fine hair, as he gripped it tightly.
The salty taste of his precum tantalized the tip of her tongue; she pressed her mouth along the veins and forced his dick completely in, until her nose was against his scrotum. His musky scent invaded her nostrils, the soft skin pressed against her; stopped her breath.
His hand held her head there, as he enjoyed the sensation of the cavernous depths of her throat. “Yes, Keira.” Breathless words escaped his lips, still half asleep.
Sucking on him always puts me in the mood. Fuck, I need to come.
His other hand caressed her naked body and settled on her breast; pinched her nipple and sent an instant zing of sensation straight through her veins, to the blood that throbbed at her sex. He continued to pinch and roll her nipple. Teased her, all she wanted was for him to touch her pussy, but in her crouched position it wasn’t possible. She slid him in and out of her mouth using her hands to tug and pinch his balls and diggin
g her nails on his inner thigh. Her lips felt his muscles contract and he jumped inside her mouth.
“Come here dirty slut.” His coarse voice called to her, as he playfully tugged at her arm.
“I want you to eat me, I need foreplay.”
“I have to work tomorrow.” Tim looked at his phone on the bedside table. “You’re going to keep me up all night.”
“Okay.” Keira whispered sadly and straddled his pelvis. With ease she slid her wet slit on his cock. The insides of her thighs were slick before she even entered the bedroom. Voyeuristically imposed images had soaked into her cerebrum.
He groaned in sheer pleasure from the tight muscles that compressed over his cock. His hands dug into her flesh at her hips.
Keira moaned breathlessly, “I’m so fucking horny.”
“I know baby.”
Part of her physical therapy routine included kegel exercises and she diligently did them multiple times daily. She even performed them during sex, like now. Tim’s back arch and guttural response made her grin.
“Yeah baby, fucking ride me.”
Keira slid as far back as she could, to make the head of his dick scour the top of the inside of her cunt and rub her g-spot. She rocked slowly without much effort, but the intensity of it set her skin aflame in goose bumps, unable to speak from the pleasure it brought. All of the skin surrounding her pussy was stretched to the limits, and she rubbed her clit; bringing her sensation to overload. It was so wet and there was no pain. Her breath reached short quick pulses, as her mind suddenly went hazy as if in a gray fog.
His fingers were clamped hard on her nipples. “Come for me.” Tim commanded.
“Oh God.” She huffed; her breath quickened and her voice cried. “I’m commming!” She leaned into his chest and pushed her face into his shoulder.